


A Mother's Love

by StrictlyNoFrills



Series: Guarding Louis [1]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: F/M, Gen, We Are the Garrison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:28:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25006183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrictlyNoFrills/pseuds/StrictlyNoFrills
Summary: There is nothing a mother would not do for her son.
Relationships: Ana de Austria | Anne d'Autriche/Aramis | René d'Herblay
Series: Guarding Louis [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1810432
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28





	A Mother's Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Enigma_TM](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enigma_TM/gifts).



> This is the first part in what I hope will be a series of stories, because enigma-the-mysterious recently wondered on Tumblr: "Where are my post season 3 "Anne, Milady and Aramis being awesome colleagues" fanfictions? WHERE ARE THEY????"
> 
> Well, here's a prologue at least.

It seemed it was the destiny of the royal family to be denied by the Captain of the Musketeers, whomever the captain at the time happened to be, when requesting that the Captain become a minister.

Yet Anne found herself relieved as Athos declined her request, a particularly knowing and kind look in his eyes which were usually rather cool and remote. Perhaps it was the news of his imminent fatherhood which softened him, though Anne had witnessed and been the object of his gentleness and his loving nature more than once in the many years of his service to France.

Whatever the cause, Anne appreciated his good humor as he placed what she desired most straight into her willing hands: An excuse to keep her love, the father of her child, he who would forever be their fiercest and most devout protector, close. Additionally, Athos’s polite refusal meant he was available to serve in another capacity.

As soon as Athos departed, Anne repaired to her desk and began to draft a letter of relief. It still felt somewhat foreign, being the power behind the throne, and the loss of Treville rendered what should have been a moment of triumph – some security for her and her son, at last! – a moment mired in grief and regret.

To indulge in such feelings overlong was now a luxury she could ill afford. She shook her head at herself, dipped her quill into the ornate little pot of ink once more, and bent her thoughts to the current task.

The next day, she sent for Athos again.

He bowed with that effortlessly aristocratic grace which had characterized him and set him apart from the rest of the Musketeers since the day he arrived, deftly concealing any discomfort which might linger from injuries sustained during the recent conflict – by God’s will, Anne fervently hoped, the last conflict to rage within Paris’s walls for some years to come.

“Your Majesty.”

She waited until he met her eyes and returned evenly, “Comte de la Fere.”

As his own eyes widened, Anne rose from the chair behind her desk and pressed the letter of relief excusing his dereliction of his duties as comte and a royal decree reaffirming his ownership of the la Fere estate and the surrounding lands into his hands.

Athos tilted his head as his fingers curled around the documents, a faint note of apprehension creeping over his generally unflappable features. “I no longer claim that title, Your Majesty. The people of Pinon govern and own the land themselves.”

“You must claim it once again, Athos. I need the support of every Frenchman I can muster to secure the future of my son. What has happened these last few years must never be allowed to happen again. Not while my son is king.”

“Go to Pinon. Reclaim your lands and title and rebuild the trust between you and your people. Once that is done, rebuild your relationship with the surrounding noble families.”

She softened as she watched Athos begin to shut himself away, showing nothing of the previous day’s openness on his face. “Athos, your child deserves to have his legacy, as does mine. Please do this for me and for my child.”

Tension around the edges of his eyes eased, and he bowed once more. “I will see it done, Your Majesty.”

“I do not doubt it.”

The moment his steps receded down the hall, Milady de Winter slipped out from the shadows.

“I believe that should keep Athos away from Paris for several years, at least. More than enough time to remove the last of Georges and Gaston’s influence from court,” Anne said, still gazing after the former captain of her Musketeers.

“There will always be political unrest and threats against the Crown, Your Majesty,” Milady pointed out silkily.

“I am well aware. Which is why you will cultivate a network of spies to keep my son safe. In the meantime, I have a job for you.” The first of many, Anne was certain.

She gave Milady the name of her brother in law and her new assassin – what a strange, chilling thought, yet Anne refused to be moved. No longer was she the young, naïve girl who first came to Paris as an anxious bride. In the few, short years of her son’s life, Anne had discovered that there was nothing she would not do for her son.

At the door, as Milady was about to depart, she turned. “A word of warning, Majesty: Deciding if a man lives or dies… conscience makes a cruel companion. You are, indeed, alone now.”

She was wrong and she was right. Ordering the death of Gaston weighed heavily upon her heart, but she was not bereft of company in her office long before a gentle knock came at the door.

Anne looked up and met a pair of warm, concerned brown eyes, and she smiled.

She was never truly alone.


End file.
